The wife of a man from the company of the prophets cried out to Elisha, “Your servant my husband is dead, and you know that he revered the LORD.”

She’s a widow. Strike one.

It gets worse.

She’s a poor widow with children. Strike two.

There’s more.

“But now his creditor is coming to take my two boys as his slaves.”

Strike three. She’s out.

Enter prophet of God.

Elisha replied to her, “How can I help you? Tell me, what do you have in your house?” “Your servant has nothing there at all,” she said, “except a small jar of olive oil.” Elisha said, “Go around and ask all your neighbors for empty jars. Don’t ask for just a few.”

Let me get this straight. Her situation isn’t bleak enough? But now…to heap sorrow upon sorrow…this poor widow…

this poor widow with children…

this poor widow with children about to become slaves is supposed to…

INCREASE her impossibility?

Make it more impossible?

Exactly. 

^“Then go inside and shut the door behind you and your sons. Pour oil into all the jars, and as each is filled, put it to one side.” She left him and shut the door behind her and her sons. They brought the jars to her and she kept pouring. When all the jars were full, she said to her son, “Bring me another one.” But he replied, “There is not a jar left.” Then the oil stopped flowing.

A more impossible circumstance has no other option than to call upon the God of the more impossible.

The increase of our ache…

The enlargement of our emptiness…

The exaggeration of our need…

creates all the more room for God to fill it.

She went and told the man of God, and he said, “Go, sell the oil and pay your debts. You and your sons can live on what is left.”  (2 Kings 4:1-7 NIV, emphasis added)

Our more impossible need makes room for

our God of the more impossible.